


don’t heal a heart that you broke

by harajukucrepes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Bisexuality, Break Up, F/M, M/M, Multi, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7450009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harajukucrepes/pseuds/harajukucrepes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There must be times when the only solution to drowning is to stop fighting the gravity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don’t heal a heart that you broke

**Author's Note:**

> This was ridiculously difficult :O 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it!

*

 

don’t heal a heart that you broke

 

*

 

He gives Kei a rushed goodbye kiss when the light from the upcoming train blazes. The sudden blindness sends them to a frozen dimension and Kei’s reminded of the first time they have had this; the anxiety, the uncertainty, the need to overcome the other—it’s all too familiar. 

The reality is a steadfast motion of the door clasping shut and Kei could only watch as the train leaves him with nothing but an echo. 

 

*

 

Yamaguchi is the first to know. One of these days Kei would have to tell him that he has been the first to know a lot of things about him. 

Yachi doesn’t question when Yamaguchi tells her that he wouldn’t be able to make it that day for their weekly tutorial session for Kageyama and Hinata. It’s this thing about Yamaguchi and Yachi that sometimes pisses Kei off, because they keep thinking that they are considerate about Kei when they really aren’t. Kei doesn’t even need them to be. 

“I’m fine,” Kei insists. “I don’t need any comforting.” 

Yamaguchi laughs slightly, obviously having already anticipated this reaction from Kei. “I know, Tsukki’s a strong guy. I just feel as though I haven’t been spending time with you.” 

“I haven’t cleaned up my place, just so you know.”

“Then it’s perfect! We have never done that before, right? Cleaning your room?” 

It’s annoying that Yamaguchi doesn’t even question how obviously out of character that is, how unlikely it is for Kei to even leave his room vulnerable to messiness, how loudly that particular excuse screams “leave me alone”, how freaking…gay it is for two guys to be cleaning rooms together. It’s the last thing he wants to be doing at the moment. Yamaguchi is the last person that he wants to be spending time together right now. 

But Yamaguchi is Yamaguchi, who knows so many things yet understands so little. 

 

*

 

Kei once thought that he could hide it forever, lock this information in some place unknown and have it degenerate over time but once Yamaguchi figured it out there was just no way to pretend that it doesn’t exist:

The fact that he once had a big fat crush on Sawamura Daichi. 

It still bothers him that he couldn’t tell what gave him away. It was probably the way Kei had flinched whenever the Captain touched him on the shoulder. It was probably the way Kei decided to stay in the Volleyball team despite his apprehension for the Karasuno brand of “team-bonding”. It was probably the way Kei had glanced in minor jealousy when the Captain and Sugawara strode off together back to class, tossing their shared bottle of Pocari to each other. It was probably the way Kei had never left the practice without looking back at the captain, hoping against some odds that he would make him stay a little longer. One of those, a few of those, maybe none of those. Perhaps Yamaguchi was just bluffing. 

In his defense though, it wasn’t hard to… _feel_ something for the Captain. He’s calm but passionate, gentle but stern, accommodating but strict. When he was around, all of the first years bowed to him, all of the second years worshipped him, all of the third years respected him, and all of the alumni admired him for raising Karasuno from the depths of the ashes of their past glory. They say in sports it takes a great captain to sustain a great team, but it takes an exceptional captain to pull together a champion team from ground zero. 

At that time, Kei thought that maybe it was in the way how Sawamura has been almost the exact image of what he had thought his brother was, maybe it was in the way Sawamura has been almost extraordinarily attentive of him. Maybe it was just a temporary thing, maybe it wasn’t real, he was just starving for some brotherly attention—well it was going to go away someday, so for that moment, he convinced himself that it was what it felt to be admiring someone. 

 

*

 

He isn’t supposed to appear in Kei’s dreams at all, but he comes so often that Kei’s defenses have stopped fighting and start bargaining instead. 

This is Kei’s offer: he will let down his guards so that in his dreams, and only in his dreams, he could let him have his way. Kei would let him kiss wherever he likes, let him touch wherever he wants. 

In return, Kei will allow himself to feel whatever he’s supposed to feel. If his kisses make Kei dizzy, he’ll let the world spin around him. If his caresses make Kei shiver, he’ll ask for more so that his body could sweat instead. If he asks him to stop thinking and let their bodies do the talking, he’ll close his eyes and take everything in. If he asks him to relax, he’ll loosen himself and breathe slowly. 

He has never enjoyed the things that happen in his dreams, not at all, that’s why he fought so hard until he couldn’t anymore. Until he understood the pull of a series of familiar touches and the futility of resistance. 

Until he knew that there’s just no way to back down, when his body is craving what his mind is denying. 

He’ll always wake up in the morning sweating all over. Until he releases himself in the shower, the ache refuses to goes away. 

 

*

 

Yamaguchi spends an awful lot of time with him these days. He’s there to greet him and walk to school with him in the morning. He’s there to have lunch with him and a box of strawberry cake ready for his consumption. He’s there to walk him home from practice, from the school gate to the door of his house. He’s always annoyingly there for no reason and Kei is starting to feel bad for Yachi. They haven’t even officially dated for a month, Yamaguchi really shouldn’t be getting involved in Kei’s business. 

But every now and then he smiles and chirps his sing-song “Tsukki” that makes Kei think that everything is normal again, nothing is out of place, there’s nothing missing in his life. Yamaguchi is still Yamaguchi, girlfriend or not, and Yamaguchi has always been about the Tsukki he has been around for such a long time that it feels strange to not see Yamaguchi being the ridiculously clingy friend. 

Yet the truth is that Yamaguchi has a girlfriend now and they are in a sickeningly loving relationship. 

It was a month into Yachi’s membership in the Volleyball team that Yamaguchi started talking about her. Yachi-san is adorable, isn’t she, the way she keeps getting nervous around the _sempais_? Yachi-san is so smart, isn’t she, and so kind as well? If only I could be as smart as she is, do you think she fancies having us study together? Ahhh… sorry Tsukki, you’re really smart as well but Yachi-san’s really good at maths, right? We can exchange our tips together. 

Yachi-san is lovely, isn’t she? She looks like flowers in the sun. 

And Yachi reciprocated in her own ways. She wasn’t as nervous with Yamaguchi as she was with, say, Kageyama. Sometimes Kei suspected that she had a crush on Hinata, but it turned out that they were as buddies as Kageyama was with Hinata, and it was Yamaguchi who had caught her eyes with his persistence and kindness. Kei knew at once what she had seen in Yamaguchi. 

Then they moved up to second year and got into the same class, had months of unofficial dates before Yamaguchi asked her if she considered them to be “dating” only to see her running off crying in paranoia. Then Yamaguchi bought her a bracelet (Kei’s idea) and said that he would like it if she had considered the idea of dating him wonderful. She accepted the bracelet and the rest became history. 

Admittedly, Kei actually loved the way Yamaguchi had gotten together with Yachi. It was nice and boring and predictable. It was slow but reciprocal. It was an exchange of smiles and adoration that became a promise of continuous exchange of smiles and adoration. It was sweet, it was simple, stuff made for shoujo manga, and for once, Kei felt that Yamaguchi had somewhat beaten him in an area. 

Unlike Yamaguchi’s love story, Kei’s began with sex, and almost ended with one. 

 

*

 

Kei was telling him the conclusion he had made, after months of guessing, weeks of consideration and days of deliberation: 

They were just not meant to be. 

The truth though, was that they _couldn’t_ have meant to be together, because it wasn’t what Kei wanted. Kei had thought nothing of love and whatnot, but even if he had thought about it, this wasn’t it. He hadn’t wanted this, the trappings of having another person’s presence affecting him so greatly that it crippled him inside out. He hadn’t needed this, the journey to the highest emotional peak, having to be ready to take the fall at any time. 

He definitely hadn’t expected this, the pleasure that comes with the addiction for another person, and he wasn’t ready for the cold turkey. 

Are you sure, he had asked with his lips so near they were breathing the same air the other exhaled. Bad habit of his, asking improbable questions with one hand on the exit door and another holding Kei’s heart delicately. 

You had wanted this, he said, you held me back when I was about to leave. Another bad habit of his, interrogating him with all the actions in the past that Kei didn’t want to remember. 

You can’t just throw me away when I’m so vulnerable, you’re going to leave me to die, do you know that? His worst habit, pleading with an emotional manipulation so artfully done that Kei fell for it every single time. 

But there was a decision and Kei was determined to follow it through. 

This wasn’t healthy, Kei had reasoned. This is us being so dependent that our lives are now nothing but each other. This is us being two hormonal teenagers refusing to grow up and see how harsh the world is for people like us. This is us destroying us, our past, present and future. This is us refusing to see that our hearts need each other because our bodies need each other, and one day we’ll grow apart, we’ll need something else, we’ll throw each other away, and we’ll leave each other empty. 

This is _not_ love. 

Kei had almost changed his mind when he pressed their lips together and his hands reached for that spot on his hips that had him jumping at once and mumbling no, you can’t do this, don’t do this now. Their bodies ground against each other so furiously and when Kei felt his erection, he gathered all his strength at once and pushed him away. 

It wasn’t until he sobbed quietly and admitted that he didn’t want to do this, it pained him so much that things had to come to this and that if he had gotten his way, he would want to hold his hand and sleep on his shoulder, take things slow and steady, but he couldn’t have that. 

He couldn’t have that when he wasn’t in love with him, when sometimes he had to force himself to think of his face to distract his body from wanting his touches. 

Kei wasn’t in love with him—he tried to be, but he couldn’t be. 

 

*

 

Kei wakes up in the middle of memories and decides to call Yamaguchi, who has offered the tiny extra space in his bed for him. 

As he watches Yamaguchi sleep, he wonders if he had ever dreamt of sex with Yachi—probably not. Yamaguchi isn’t someone who would even dream of making out with Yachi—does Yamaguchi even know what “making out” is though? He probably dreams of all the various kinds of dates with Yachi, he once mentioned something about lavender field date. Maybe cinema dates too, once he finds out Yachi’s favourite type of movies. Maybe volleyball game dates—though it would probably stress Yachi out so probably not. 

He wonders about what normal people like Yamaguchi do with someone they like. Do they have this mental checklist of things to do in chronological order that they follow obediently, like sending gifts then holding hands then kisses on the cheeks then kisses on the lips or something? Do they talk about what they like about each other when they are together, do they plan their next date when they are nearing the end of their current one? 

If only Yamaguchi had taught him this, perhaps he, too, could have fallen in love. 

 

*

 

The thing is that Kei was at least a little in love with him. 

Kei realised this when he had held his face with an expression that said that he accepted that they couldn’t be together and Kei was suddennly seeing him for what he was, a man crushed by his delusion. Kei wanted to embrace him so badly there and then, because some feelings he had for him were real and genuine. 

Kei had adored him, admired him, looked up to him—it was all real feelings that Kei didn’t want to have for someone ever again. 

They agreed to have a last moment together and it wasn’t because Kei was falling into his own old habit of pulling him in when he had meant to push him away, but because he wanted a moment of pure affection before they were to part. 

He was a little in love with him, and if they could have this moment forever, he could be a lot more in love with him. 

But it was already too late—they were over before they could begin and when Kei was left with nothing but a phantom of his back as he rose up into the almost moving train, he finally admitted to himself that it was all his fault. 

 

*

 

Akiteru announces over dinner that he’s breaking up with his girlfriend. It doesn’t really matter to Kei—he has never seen her. Akiteru seems strangely relieved about it. It might have something to do with not having to deal with the pressure of having to plan for marriage so soon. 

Kei has only once seen his brother being heartbroken, and that was the time when Akiteru has spotted Kei in the crowds directly opposite him as fellow spectators of the Karasuno volleyball match that he claimed he was playing in. They hadn’t been the same since then, with Kei actively keeping his distance and Akiteru trying his best to pretend everything was ok when he was so close to being torn apart. It was only late at night when Kei heard some thrashing next door that he realised that his own anguish was a mere fraction of what his brother was going through. 

And yet he couldn’t bring himself to comfort him, because it just seemed to make perfect sense to him that you don’t heal a heart that you broke. 

Perhaps that was the real reason why everything else seemed easy to Akiteru, Kei thinks. If he had suffered the greatest possible pain, what else could hurt more? 

 

*

 

Kei contemplates calling, but he settles with a short text message. _How are you?_ he types.

 

*

 

“I told you to knock,” Kei mutters. He’s lying in his bed after a particularly grueling Japanese Literature read, ready to sleep but Akiteru comes in with a basketball and throws it at him. 

“Sorry, sorry, got a bit too excited.” Akiteru gives him that grin that had once been the light of his world. 

Kei catches it effortlessly and passes it back to him. 

“I need to sleep, maybe next time?”

Akiteru’s face falls. He’s probably badly needing some company after what he has come home to tell and what better company to have than Kei, someone who have no expectation whatsoever of him. 

“Ah, you have exam coming up?”

Kei doesn’t. He just doesn’t feel like talking. So he turns away and clicks the table lamp shut. 

“I’m sorry, I really need to sleep.”

 

*

 

The reply comes early in the morning (what is he doing up so late…or so early?), as cheeky as ever. It’s almost as though that day with the train station kiss didn’t happen. 

_What, miss me already?_

 

*

 

After that rather cold exchange with his brother, naturally, Yamaguchi keeps a closer eye on Kei. Not that it changes anything, because if he had wanted to say anything to Kei, he would have said it a lot sooner. 

Sometimes he wonders if Yamaguchi knows anything, like the fact that it was that very practice match when he had yelled at him that started it all. Perhaps he should find a time somewhere in the future to tell Yamaguchi that it could all be attributed to him, in the broader sense of things. If Yamaguchi had never yelled at him, knocked some sense into him, he would have never thought about wanting the answers to some of the questions he had long hidden away in the back of his mind. If Yamaguchi didn’t catch him that night, he would have never sought for someone that wasn’t Karasuno, he wouldn’t have been dragged into all those practice sessions, he wouldn’t have found himself in this mess. 

The thing is that he has never needed to keep secrets because he hardly talks about himself. Secrets are only secrets if you make them out to be and Kei doesn’t have many of those. Yet he wants nothing more than to be able to bury everything about what happened, starting from the moment he stepped into that court sounding as though he had really wanted to know about what makes a volleyball player great to that moment he was left standing in the platform of the train station until a security guard informed him that it was past midnight. 

All the touches that set his soul on fire—he’ll drown them all. All the kisses that made his heart race—he’ll erase them. All the words that left him shattered—he’ll delete them. 

They are not secrets, Kei just doesn’t like that those moments _existed_. 

It’s all your fault, Yamaguchi, he sometimes thinks. 

 

*

 

He’s hating himself intensely for what he’s seeing himself type into the phone screen. 

_That’s a fast reply. You sure you aren’t waiting for this to happen?_

 

*

 

Bokuto-san had called him the Master of Provocations. That was how he managed to get under Kei’s skin, drew him into a carefully-laid trap and encased him in a crystal cube. Bokuto-san has known him forever, Bokuto-san has seen this over and over again, but Bokuto-san was wrong. 

It wouldn’t be difficult to attempt unnerving him—Kei has seen it way too often during games. It wouldn’t be difficult to taunt him—ask Hinata and Kageyama. It wouldn’t need some kind of rocket science to be able to even know him—Yamaguchi could attest. 

But to use the knowledge of him to his advantage; every conversation a guessing game and every question a gamble—Kei couldn’t look away even if he had wanted to. 

 

*

 

He could have walked away, many times over. I won’t do it if you don’t want it, Kei remembers him saying in many variations. Let’s stop here, let’s not do this when you’re not in the mood. If you don’t like it I’ll stop. If you think this isn’t for you then feel free to get up and walk away. 

I won’t be mad at you, I promise. I won’t keep any grudges, I won’t bear any ill will, this is all consensual, we’re all good. Trust me in this, will you? 

It used to mean nothing to Kei, and it was precisely because it was supposed to mean nothing that it all had to be said. It was a little like putting a disclaimer before the movie starts. It was a bit like stating out your assumptions before starting an experiment. It was probably like a warning before particularly disturbing show. It was like they were perpetually trying to keep each other at a distance away. 

Distance was good, distance was perfect. They were good with distances. It was good when Kei was a freshman in Miyagi and he was a senior in Tokyo. It was good when Kei was an amateur player and he was aiming to be a professional. It was good when Kei had nothing to talk about and he was too eager to share about that stupidly tall player on his team. It was good when Kei was putting up a barrier and he was too busy tearing it down that he didn’t realise he had done it. 

Telling Kei that he could have walked away was as good as telling him that they could have had it all, but they didn’t have to. 

 

*

 

_I wasn’t, I swear. I like surprises._

 

*

 

Kageyama oscillates between the national team and Karasuno these days. He doesn’t seem to like the national team very much, a fact that Hinata publicly laments about. 

“How could you,” he mourns loudly, “not even make a friend or two???” 

“Shut up, stupid. Just because they are in the national team, it doesn’t mean they are better than us. Ask Tsukishima.”

Kei’s instinctive reaction at Kageyama asking him for response is usually a non-committal smirk. It doesn’t give Kageyama the validation he requires in order to piss Hinata further and it doesn’t give Hinata the consolation that being in the position of almost always missing out the best practice opportunities isn’t the worst thing in the world (but who is he kidding, really, Hinata seems to find any second not practicing a wasted chance at glory). Tsukishima Kei, after all, lives to please only himself—probably the only reason Kageyama and Hinata are his only friends other than Yamaguchi. 

Kageyama stopped being a pain in the ass some few months ago probably. There was most likely some begrudging respect involved. Or jealousy, he thinks. Kageyama hasn’t been coy about desiring the “connections to Tokyo’s top players” that Kei apparently has. Kageyama, strangely, has never bothered asking how did that connection come about and Kei is more than willing to spare him details, only occasionally offering Kageyama some tips that Akaashi-san shared. 

Bokuto-san did ask him about Kageyama, so naturally, Kei answered as honestly as possible. 

“An egotistical prick with half of an eggplant for a brain and vocabulary range of a 3-year-old.” 

Apparently it still makes Bokuto-san laugh to this day. 

 

*

 

It’s not like Kei misses him, it’s just that he can’t stop seeing his face in his mind. He’s sure that there’s a name for feelings like this, in between wanting and not wanting, this constant emotional struggle that he’s in. 

He’s sure that there are thousands of books out there teaching about getting out of this, like there are so many books dealing with sickness, and he’s tempted to read them. 

He’s sure that somewhat talking to Yamaguchi about it would help, because Yamaguchi is nice and Yamaguchi understands him, so maybe Yamaguchi could put a name to things Kei can’t say. 

He’s sure that there are many things you can do to prevent yourself from doing the stupidest things when you’re a little down and a little vulnerable to things that once did some damage to you. 

Yet it’s the unthinkable that he ends up doing, because he’s sure that there must be times when the only solution to drowning is to stop fighting the gravity. 

 

*

 

_I’m here. Shibuya Hachiko Gate._

 

*

 

There are quite many reasons why Hinata’s presence in the practice sessions with Nekoma and Fukurodani often annoys Kei to no ends. 

1\. He’s very noisy  
2\. He entertains Bokuto-san.  
3\. Bokuto-san _adores_ him because of 2.  
4\. He’s very distracting; they probably spent more time explaining basic concepts to him than is necessary  
5\. He doesn’t get it that sometimes Kei just wants to escape Karasuno for a while  
6\. Yet he manages to notice that Kei’s attention has been drawn to someone  
7\. He has never stopped asking about it

 

*

 

Kei has never really likes Shibuya; all the roadside buskers and campaigners don’t interest him in the slightest. He has never really understood the appeal of a crowd—what’s fun about feeling claustrophobic? He doesn’t blame Kageyama for feeling insecure in Tokyo, because for all the diversity that this metropolis offers, nothing is really welcoming about it. 

That’s exactly why he comes here, right behind the overglorified statue of a fabled dog, good for nothing but a one-time gratification that hardly means anything at all. 

He has hoped that the sentiment would extend to the person whom he’s waiting for, doesn’t matter if it would make him look like the world’s biggest fool. He has learned to acknowledge some of the things he had heard in the past, that there are stupid things worth doing and there stupid words worth saying and this is but one of them. 

He sets him aside from the busy crowd, him and his faux leather jacket and faded grey jeans, hair as unkempt as usual and an uncertain smile across his face. He has never missed him more than he does now that he’s right there in front of him and there’s nothing else but a sea of moving people separating them, no distance to distill the yearning or memories to suppress. 

He has missed him so much that he has to grab his own knees to hold himself still. He has missed saying his name so much that words are all stuck in his throat. 

He has missed him so much that it’s costing him everything to not run away in opposite direction when he approaches and he swears to whatever the celestial being is that if he could choose a moment to disappear, this would be it. 

 

*

 

He would have turned around and returned back home if the train trip wouldn’t take four freaking hours and more than ten thousand yen, but he’s here watching people take pictures of the golden dog, words on his phone screen spinning in his mind. 

_Why are you here?_

 

*

 

It’s not a lot of time, he thinks to himself. It has just been a few months, just a bit over one semester as far as he knows. Flowers could grow from a bud. Insects could live and die. Season could come and go. 

It’s not a lot of time—just long enough for a lover to be a stranger. 

It’s not a lot of time, he repeats, just long enough for a name to be a trigger. 

“Kuroo-san,” he calls, finally allowing the crushing waves of suppressed emotions to wash over him. 

 

*

 

Yamaguchi tried, and oh, he tried so hard. Yamaguchi has always tried his hardest in everything. Kei knew of his habit to study at crazy hours past midnight. He also knew about him coming to school with wobbly arms in the morning because he was still working on his serves. Yamaguchi has always been crazy about things like these. 

It can be inspiring—if only he doesn’t make it a habit to stop short at being great, and Kei knows perfectly the reason why. 

You’re the best, Tsukki. You’re the smartest, Tsukki. You’re the handsomest, Tsukki. I’m so proud to be your friend. 

Except Kei knows that he doesn’t, not really. 

You don’t work your ass off just to secretly catch up to a friend you worship—that’s not how it works. Or it probably does; Kei doesn’t want to know. Yamaguchi could have told him that he wanted some tutoring, he wanted to practice more, at least he could have insisted, perhaps Kei would have listened. 

“But you wouldn’t.” Kuroo once said. “I have seen you brushing him off, why would anyone want to try again after that?”

Whenever Kuroo said things like those, it left Kei with no doubt to why he would stick around with him. Kuroo is the kind who lets guessing games attract him—he spots them, he observes them, he solves the riddles, he celebrates his victories by making conclusions that unnerve Kei. 

You’re so unintentionally cruel, he once said. You never want anyone by your side, and yet you never drive them away on purpose. You just watch as they try, try and try again until they leave on their own volition.

You wait for them to stop caring, then you ridicule them for ever trying.

Sometimes Kei watches Yamaguchi and wonders what would make him leave, what would break him. Insulting him wouldn’t. Rejecting him wouldn’t. Leaving him wouldn’t. Kei tried the only thing he could think of: 

One night, right before he closed his eyes, Kei kissed him. 

 

*

 

Kei’s chest pounds during the entire journey there, ten minutes of commute and another ten minutes of walking. He was expecting a more lukewarm reunion, something like a cup of coffee and an awkward conversation. He wasn’t expecting Kuroo to be wearing his trademark grin, the one that used to make Kei feel an idiot, and swiftly leading him somewhere. 

Kuroo waited until they are in downtown Shinjuku a few streets away from Kabukicho before dragging him into a dark lane. 

By now, Kei has stopped feeling foolish. He knows very well where this place is, the implications of it. He hates to think that Kuroo might have been affiliated with this side of the society, he hates to think that he might have to exercise caution around him, he hates to think that the Kuroo he’s seeing now is not the one he knew. 

Kuroo pulls him as he stands to lean against a wall and they are both now just within the encirclement of the shadow of the streetlamp. 

“You seem like you do this often,” Kei can’t help commenting. 

“What, this?” Kuroo links their hands together. 

“Yes, this,” Kei answers, the familiar sense of satisfaction that he only gets from verbal sparring is starting to inject life into him. “Dragging someone to hide under in the shadows, choosing the specific area where it’s not strange to find two boys doing unsightly things, it’s hard to believe that you’ve been staying put.”

“What are you going to do then,” Kuroo’s arm slithers to Kei’s back, “if I tell you right now that you broke my heart so badly that my only consolation lies in seeking for someone like you?”

Kei bends down so that their lips are touching. He wonders if Kuroo could feel his heart jumping violently in his chest. 

“Now that I’m here, are you consoled?”

He can tell that Kuroo’s conflicted. He has expected that Kuroo would kiss him immediately, because that would be his usual reaction. He was never the one to turn away from Kei’s challenges, but now his grip on his back loosens then tightens, he rocks slightly as though he’s trying to push Kei away and run as far as he could. 

Maybe it’s best that Kuroo does push Kei away. He has never failed to read Kei, so surely he already knows that Kei has fallen into the trap of desiring the comfort that belongs to the past. There’s no meaning to them meeting now, there’s no meaning to Kei traveling all the way to Tokyo to see him, there’s no meaning to Kei wanting to touch him so badly that he doesn’t wait for an answer. 

The kiss is electric; it must be what it feels to float in mid-air. Kei holds on to him desperately, letting his body ask for what his lips couldn’t: please let me have this, just this one, I’m sorry if I’m pushing this on you, I’m sorry if this is not what could make you feel better, let me have this and I’ll leave. 

I’ll go away, I’ll disappear, I’ll forget you once and for all. 

But Kuroo stops him halfway and massages his neck, then pulls him closer and embraces him tight. 

“Let’s do this slowly,” he says, in an ironic echo of Kei’s own pleading words. “Let’s make this count.”

Just one time, Kei reminds himself. 

Once and for all. 

 

*

 

Yamaguchi hasn’t spoken to him since the day Kei had tried to kiss him. 

Unlike that time with his brother, there isn’t anyone else who could help to mediate. 

Yachi probably could but if Yamaguchi has picked up any relationship tips, he wouldn’t tell her anything. 

 

*

 

Kuroo has always preferred to tease for as long as he could like he has all the time in the world. He has his breathy little kisses and ticklish tiny touches, lame unfunny jokes and mischievous eyes. There were times when Kei would tease him back with his own provocative jokes just to make Kuroo stop teasing and give it to him. Sometimes it would work, sometimes it wouldn’t. Kei probably had loved those moments. 

This time is no different—up until both their pants are down by beside the bed and there’s a sense of strangeness with Kuroo. 

There are no small talks, not even when Kei pauses to breathe and caresses the side of his cheek and comments about his facial hair. Their eyes hardly meet, not even when Kei takes off his glasses and their foreheads are glued to each other. Kuroo’s hands are weirdly fixated on his chest and when they trail through his nipples to his back, he realises what's wrong. 

Unlike Kei, who has tried his best to forget him, Kuroo has been trying to fill the void. 

He pushes Kuroo and forces him to stop—stop this, he says. I don’t want to do this, I didn’t come here for this. 

More than ever, Kei wishes he could gather enough courage to ask Kuroo to hold him; there’s something ironically laughable about seeking him out because he’s the only one familiar enough with his body to release him from the longing only to find that he has been familiar with other bodies as well. 

 

*

 

The night was cold when Kei inadvertently told Kuroo that yes, he was indeed pretty gay for him. 

Kuroo was pleasantly surprised, but he didn’t sound like he wasn’t expecting it. 

“I knew it,” he had said, “I knew that you were charmed by me. All the sideway glances, were you checking me out?”

“No,” Kei had flatly denied. He didn’t want to give Kuroo the satisfaction of knowing that all the stupid things he had been doing had only managed to make Kei notice him more. 

“Can we date?”

“No,” Kei repeated, and this was an honest answer. He had thought that it would make it easier if he just give in and admitted that _yes, Kuroo-san, you’re stupidly attractive and I can’t help looking at you so help me out in this?_ but it only managed to raise more question. What should he do now that the cat’s out of the bag—

What should he want now? 

They settled on a compromise, because Kuroo found him interesting as well. If they can’t date, they could fuck. It wouldn’t hurt any of them. Kei couldn’t care any further than that. 

They were both wrong. 

 

*

 

Do you know, Kei once thought, that truth could kill? Truth is shattering fantasy. Truth is waking up from a daydream. Truth is cruelty dressed as honesty. 

Truth is admitting that Kei was wrong when he said he didn’t love him. 

 

*

 

The first time was painful as hell. Whoever had said that a man’s body is designed to receive a dick just like a woman’s body could was delusional. 

He almost screamed for Kuroo to get it out. Get it away from me, he had said. It’s hurting me, the lube’s not helping, did you even research into it? 

The only distraction was the sensation he was getting from the heat of another man’s body so close to his, and it was then he discovered that even if the sex hurt, he was definitely infatuated with a male body, and a body as good as Kuroo’s was a far greater distraction that he could ask for. 

Unlike his own, Kuroo’s slim body was tight and sinewy, the tips of his fingers rough but capable of soft, tender touches. He couldn’t take his eyes off his muscles, his jawline, his shoulder blade—for some reason Kei thought he would endure it if it meant he could keep looking at him. 

Besides, it was said that the pain would go away after a few times. 

 

*

 

Kei would talk, would say anything, any truth, if only Kuroo would talk as well. 

But they are both just staring at each other, until words become stones in Kei’s chest and he sobs a little while getting them out. 

“Kuroo-san,” he almost sounds pleading and Kei hates it, hates that it doesn’t convey how horrible he’s feeling. 

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo says. 

Stop it, Kei screams inside. Don’t say that. It’s not you, it’s me. 

You can apologise forever but the truth is that it’s not you, it’s me. I’ve been a dick to you, stringing you along then pushing you away when my feelings became complicated and I didn’t know what to do with them. It’s not you, it’s me. I’ve been cold and unaccommodating, coming to you only when I need something. 

It’s not you, it’s me. You must hate me now that you see me for who I really am, a stupid boy who throws away everyone he cares about. My brother. My friend. 

You. 

“How many,” Kei finally asks, “have you been with after that day?”

 

*

 

Kei didn’t know why Kuroo responded to him. Why he would agree to basically be his fuck buddy, why he would agree to mess up their perfectly healthy volleyball mentor-mentee relationship, why he would let himself be convinced that this would somehow end well for them. What would he stand to gain having sex with a confused boy, when he could make love to a boy like he was hardly confused at all. 

“Tsukki,” he had whispered in that voice that made Kei feel like he could melt, “I like that I could see your face like this, because you look like you could be in love with me.”

Perhaps it was his confidence that drew him to Kei. Perhaps it was the fact that he was rightfully confident. Sometimes Kei wanted to burst his bubble because he couldn’t be always right, damn it. 

So Kei made up his mind: he wouldn’t be in love with him, he wouldn’t care about him, and if the sex turned out to be quite good after all, it was because apparently Kuroo was a fast learner. 

 

*

 

“A few. All girls.”

Kuroo has probably meant the answer to be some sort of a twisted consolation—you were the only guy I could still have sex with, they don’t matter to me, not at all, but it hardly makes Kei feel better, because it looks like Kuroo was only entertaining his confusion. 

Because it looks like Kuroo wasn’t into boys at all and it was only Kei alone with his hopefulness. 

“It’s not what you think it is,” Kuroo immediately adds. “It’s..listen to me, Tsukki. I was….”

He pulls Kei close and Kei automatically goes for a nuzzle. He can’t bear to think anymore, and if Kuroo could still read him as well as he used to be able to, he’d know what Kei needs most right here and now. 

“I was lonely.”

It could be both their answers, it doesn’t matter. Once upon a time they could be perfectly happy, but now that they tasted the illicit, they are eternally doomed to be crippled. 

 

*

 

He had seen in the way Sawamura had looked at Sugawara that would do nothing to hide his affection. It was the relaxed expression and the tiny stars in his eyes. It was the way he sometimes looked at Sugawara licking his lips. It was the way they sometimes touched casually yet intimately. It was the way they smiled at each other at graduation, thanking each other for the good time. 

Kei had wanted all of those, he wanted to be looked at as though he meant something, as though he was worth something, as though he could be a person’s one and only. It was a hard feeling to have because it was so silly. So stupid, it was all something that Yamaguchi would want, not him, Tsukishima Kei. 

Tsukishima Kei couldn’t be bothered to need such ridiculously unnecessary feelings. Tsukishima Kei couldn’t be bothered to want more than what he could have. He was nobody special, he didn’t need anything special. 

Yet when he received a graduation picture from Kuroo with a message that said, “wish you were here!!!”, Kei wished he could have the ability to want to be just a little more special. 

 

*

 

If he could be given a chance to do it all over again, he would say _yes, Kuroo-san, let’s go on dates._

They could been so many things if they could do all the stupid things people do. 

Let’s do things all over again, let me be your stupid little boyfriend. 

Let me learn how to love you. 

 

*

 

He didn’t really want to part whenever they did, but Tsukishima Kei would never be hung up on farewells, so he would turn away every time they do, only replying to text messages whenever he felt like it. 

If he was more affectionate, more honest with his feelings, perhaps they could have some goodbye kisses and a promise to see each other again. But because he was Tsukishima Kei, they had settle with whatever Tsukishima Kei could offer: a cold, distant game of chasing each other. 

 

*

 

But he doesn’t get a chance to do things all over again because nobody—not even Tsukishima Kei—gets the privilege, so he clings on to Kuroo, because this is the last time you’ll let me do it, so please let me have this. 

He lets Kuroo go for a soft kiss on his head, he lets Kuroo caress the top of his arm, he lets Kuroo play with his ear and in exchange, Kuroo lets him curl up and lean against his chest. 

If only he were a little gutsier, he would talk. He would tell Kuroo that he has had a crush a Sawamura so huge that it probably carried over to him, to Kuroo himself. He would tell Kuroo that he fucked it up so badly with his brother and Yamaguchi that he would need about ten years to apologise, maybe. 

He would tell Kuroo that it doesn’t matter if he still likes girl, because Tsukishima Kei has liked boys but up until now, has only ever loved one. 

 

*

 

He calls Yamaguchi first, who greets him as happily as Yamaguchi could be. 

“Tsukki! Where were you? Akiteru-san said you weren’t home.”

It’s so Yamaguchi to worry about him so needlessly. Shouldn’t it be time for him to stop and focus his attention on his girlfriend indeed? 

“I sorta am in Tokyo,” he says. 

“What?”

“And uhm…I’m ok.”

“Tsukki, did you..?”

“I met him. I’m with him right now.”

“I see,” Yamaguchi sounds only partly relieved. Kei knows what he’s worried about. 

“We are fine.”

“Really?”

“I’ll tell you when I get back.”

“Tsukki…I’m so happy.” Yamaguchi is about to choke and Kei suddenly feels a surge of affection for him. 

“It’s not what you think though,” Kei corrects him, just in case he thinks they are back together. “I got my mind cleared up, that’s all.”

“Oh, really.”

“And, uh, Yamaguchi, I,” Kei takes a deep breath, just short of hesitating on the next few words, but suddenly a pair of hand grab his waist and envelops him from the back. 

“Go on, say it,” Kuroo whispers, holding him tighter. 

“I’m sorry.”

Kei has done so many things to Yamaguchi that he has never managed to apologised properly for—leaving him behind one time in first year when the bus came too early, mentally resenting him for getting a girlfriend, subconsciously trying to steer him away from a girl he would rather spend his time with— and this is one apology for many. It shouldn’t be enough, but for Yamaguchi, it would. Kei just have to make sure that he apologises in ten other ways. 

“I’ll tell Akiteru-san where you are, so don’t worry, ok?”

They hang up the phone and Kei wraps his arms around Kuroo’s neck so hard that they sway for a while. 

 

*

 

“Hey Tsukki,” he once heard Kuroo ask, “Do you know what had drawn me to you?”

Kei didn’t want to know, but he let him say anyway. 

“It was the fact that you wanted me first.”

Kei’s gut reaction was to punch him, but there was an earnest look on Kuroo’s face that made him hold his fist, the look that said _hey I’m not joking_ and Kei thought he fell a little more in love after that. 

 

*

 

“Don’t go,” Kuroo begs. 

“I don’t want to. But I have to.”

Kuroo cups his face and kisses his nose. “You don’t have to.”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I want to.”

Kuroo’s face falls. Kei could tell his he’s weary of things, he’s tired of longing and wanting. He’s tired of not being able to act on his feelings, he’s tired of having to cover his loneliness, and Kei feels sorry. Sorry for making him the sanctuary of his confused feelings, sorry for making him accept his state of denial, sorry for denying the same happiness that he had unknowingly given Kei. 

But unlike in the past, he’ll apologise.

He lifts Kuroo’s chin, trails his thumb over his lower lip. 

“I’ll come back to you, so at that time, if you still want me, please take care of me, will you?” Let’s go on dates, let’s watch movies, let’s cuddle in your bed, let’s play basketball in my house courtyard, I’ll introduce you to my brother even though he’s not as cool as you, I’ll tell you about Yamaguchi and his silly little love. 

I’ll tell you about those few months before I met you for the first time, how wildly my mind had gone about Sawamura-san. I’ll tell you about those few months before I confessed to you, how you had refused to leave my imagination. I’ll tell you about those few months after I made you leave that night, how deeply consumed I was with guilt that I became the worst version of myself. 

Kuroo doesn’t answer, but he surrenders his head to Kei’s palm and Kei knows that this time he has no further room for anymore mistake. 

 

*

 

True to its reputation, the Shinjuku Train Station’s crowd could only keep growing, which proves to be somewhat of a blessing in disguise. Right before he’s supposed to turn towards the train door, Kei plants a quick kiss on Kuroo’s cheek that makes him so startled that he reacts by holding him in his place. 

Deciding that the crowd wouldn’t care anyway, Kei intertwines their fingers and squeeze his hand to let him know that _yes this is real_. 

I want to kiss you, but it’s ok if you don’t want to. I’ll miss you, I’ll miss you so much, let’s see each other again. 

“Thank you, Kuroo-san,” he says. 

“For what?”

“For yesterday.” _For making me happy. For loving me. For letting me fall for you. For everything._

There’s a push from behind and Kei’s suddenly a breath away from Kuroo, so he takes his chance and gives him a deep, slow kiss. Against the time, against the judging crowd, against all odds. He drags them both into a dimension where only both of them exist and Kuroo’s back is facing him, so he hugs him from behind to return the security that he had so generously given him before. 

_I had loved you. I still do._

The reality is a steadfast motion of the door clasping shut and Kei could only watch as he leaves along with the train, taking with him nothing but an echo of his own rapidly beating heart. 

 

*


End file.
